Tell me a story
by FantiSci
Summary: People are a bit of a mystery to Botanica. She explains this to her lab assistant, as various chemicals explode. Next in the BM series.


Author's note: Feels like forever since I posted something! Anyway...Just a brief note to thank everyone who has read / is reading my assorted junk (and survived!). I also have to apologise for my atrocious formatting of this story - my computer flatly refuses to accept HTML. The orderly format of the last few fics was down to Chaotic Serenity, who bails me out in such matters. Whenever I'm able, I'll reload this lot so it doesn't look quite so...messy.  
  
Oh, and something else I always forget - Disclaimer: These are not my characters (except Vortex and Kismet, who HASBRO should be relieved not to own...), this is not my show, I make no money from this, it's all HASBRO's. (and Mainframe Entertainment's, but that ruins the rhyme...)  
  
Tell me a story...  
  
"Miss Botanica, where do you want theeeeEEEEEEEESE!"  
  
The unfortunate research assistant found herself skidding across the laboratory floor at break-neck pace, courtesy of a paper that had fallen to the floor. Botanica almost absent-mindedly seized the young woman by her armour before she could collide with a cupboard full of various acids. Often, Vortex thanked Primus that Cybertron held most information digitally - this paper stuff was a menace to society.  
  
"Thank you, ma'am..."  
  
"Not a problem," the plant-Transformer told her. "Put the vials in that cabinet, please."  
  
Yes, she smiled quietly, this was where she belonged. Safe among her experiments and her lab assistants. None of this war nonsense, with its unpredictibility and sorrow. No more living on a knife edge, here in the research facility you mixed X with Y and achieved the desired, forseeable effect.  
  
Well, unless you counted Kismet four labs down, who blew himself up on a regular basis. Newcomers to the Centre quickly learned to knock the door and RUN when delivering a message or looking for the professor. Kismet was the stereotypical mad scientist, though quintessentially harmless, and random objects exploding in his presence had quickly become an accepted phenomona.  
  
She chuckled to herself. All was well in her world.  
  
Except...  
  
________________________________________________  
  
Vortex cheerily arranged the contents of the cupboard to her satisfaction, and scouted around the room for her notebook.  
  
It was so nice to have Botanica back again - although the new name had taken a little adjusting to - and with the rest of the scientist's research team on their way home, things would soon be as if they'd never left. Vortex, although clumsy, was well on her way to being a successful researcher herself, once she'd decided whether she wanted to devote herself to zoology or botany.  
  
"Miss Botanica?" she asked, flicking through the notes of the previous day's work. "Do you really have to restrict yourself to one field of study? Aren't there people who just explore and research whatever comes their way?"  
  
Botanica, still engrossed in her work, answered almost without thinking. "Oh yes. I know some people who were on a team like that..."  
  
Catching herself out, she quickly amended "But most scientists prefer to specialise, if only so you don't get the answers confused on your certificate exam. One of my friends did that - Chemistry and Zoology. He had to resit after he made himself sick with stress. Put down that an arachnid was a chemical compound with corrosive properties."  
  
She shook her head. "It was happy chance that his tutor realized what had happened. He was amazingly talented. He would have been wasted doing any other job."  
  
Her attempt at diverting attention away from her association with the Beast Warriors (plus Nightscream) was almost successful. Almost.  
  
Unfortunately, what Vortex lacked in co-ordination she more than made up for in wits. "What about the team that did the exploration?"  
  
Botanica sighed. Young assistant, one, accredited scientist, nil. She really hadn't wanted to broach that subject.  
  
"The group that defeated Megatron were originally scientists on an exploration mission."  
  
Vortex blinked. "Really? The council said that they were the crew of the battle ship the Elders sent out to track Megatron."  
  
The empty test tube Botanica was holding clattered to the floor. "What?!"  
  
The younger woman stepped back, nervous. "They said that they'd sent out the army, but that Optimus Primal sustained heavy casualties in the Beast Wars..."  
  
"Good grief, child, the crew of one army ship is about five hundred strong. How bad a leader would Optimus have to have been to lose all but five members?"  
  
Then again, Botanica thought, perhaps that was what the council had wanted. To make Optimus's victory seem like a fluke, and his sacrifice nothing but guilty repentance...And it was a half-truth, the most dangerous kind of lie. Thirty-seven of the protoforms the Axalon had held had been lost when they were ejected. X had been set loose only to die, but no doubt the Council would turn that to their advantage as well...even if they were to blame for creating Rampage in the first place. Three Maximal protoforms had been reprogrammed into Predacons, nevermind that Blackarachnia had since returned to the fold...  
  
She felt a chill in her bones as she realized the gravity of the situation Optimus's teammates were in. With Rattrap, Silverbolt, Blackarachnia and Cheetor too entangled in their own problems to see the big picture, the Council's propaganda had gone almost unheeded save for a few bitter remarks on the lack of ceremony Optimus's death had received. The Axalon crew were a threat, and a threats were eliminated.  
  
She sighed. This was why she had become a scientist. Cybertron's politics were no less ruthless or underhanded than any other nation, they just hid it better. Pretty titles such as "Council" and "Elders" diverted attention away from their total lack of morality.  
  
"Miss Botanica?"  
  
Vortex had become edgy, worried that she had said something wrong. Botanica smiled her reassurance.  
  
"It's nothing, Vortex. I'm actually glad you brought it to my attention."  
  
As long as I know it's there, I can do something about it...  
  
____________________________________________________________  
  
"So what are they like? They're meant to be heroes, aren't they? Are they tough, strong, diplomatic, what?"  
  
The girl just wouldn't let it drop. She supposed she could tell her she didn't want to talk about it - but that was unfair. She had introduced the topic, she may as well follow it through.  
  
"They're actually fairly...well, unique."  
  
Understatement. And possible euphemism. The first time she'd seen the group together, her initial reaction was "What have I gotten myself into?" Further association with the team had only deepened her confusion.  
  
As a scientist, Botanica was used to things making sense once you analysed them correctly. Things had to be logical. This team was not logical. Their tactics and motivations were erratic, their personalities bafflingly clashing, and their personal lives approached soap-opera proportions. The more she learned, the less she knew.  
  
Take Rattrap, for example...in fact, don't take Rattrap, because that was the one robot above them all that Botanica was trying to avoid thinking about. Silverbolt then. She could understand the personality change she'd been told he'd gone through, could understand his need for revenge. His self-loathing was to be expected, and by association so was his self- imposed isolation from the team. But in such times, it was logical to seek help, to confide in someone. Silverbolt actively resisted all attempts to lighten his guilt and hatred. That was simply bad sense, let alone rather rude.  
  
"Do you know them well? Do you like them?"  
  
Back to Botanica's Question Time. "Vortex, you know I'm not exactly what is called a "people person."  
  
The colloquialism sounded out of place in Botanica's elegant accent, but the young assistant was used to this by now.  
  
"But surely you know them well enough to like or dislike them?"  
  
Valid point. "To be honest, Vortex, I'm never entirely sure of what I think of them..." She tried to think of the best way to explain. "They're almost like...storybook characters."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
Botanica sighed...Why had that metaphor come to mind? "Well...their personalities seem extreme. Almost cliche."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Well, the brooding loner, the impulsive child, the smart mouth, the insecure second-in-command...straight out of a fictional novel, would you not agree?"  
  
Vortex blinked. Botanica wasn't usually so...cutting. "Yeah, but there has to be more than that, doesn't there? No-one can be totally two- dimensional..."  
  
"No..." Botanica looked up for a moment. "No, they can't be, Vortex. And that's the problem at times." She sighed as she returned to the experiment. "It would be easy to deal with them if that's all they were. I actually think I might have been TRYING to keep them as simplified characters..."  
  
"But you can't deal with people like that."  
  
"No. You cannot."  
  
Botanica could barely believe that she was speaking so personally with a junior member. However, Vortex had fast established herself as a competent scientist and trusted friend...when the Council had questioned her on Botanica, she'd played the fool, told nothing of relevance and reported back to the older woman immediately.  
  
Vortex had had first hand experience of political duplicity. Her mother, Merania, had been a researcher for the Council's shipbuilding programme. She'd warned the High Council that their state-of-the-art stealth warship had inadequate safety measures and actually took action to prevent its launch...only to be overruled by the Council and suffer the humiliation of a demotion as a result. Eventually she had transferred to a private company on the grounds of harassment.  
  
When the ship exploded in transwarp space, killing four members of the eight-strong test crew, the Council directed the press to Merania's door.  
  
Stupid, really. Merania had outfoxed the press by being totally honest. She brought out the paperwork, showed them the minutes of her meeting with the Elders, showed her notice of demotion, the plan of the ship and explained exactly why it had exploded.  
  
It had taken the Elder Denrin a while to...persuade the media networks that this incident needn't be made public.  
  
This occurrence had given Vortex a distinctly jaded view of the Council and the Elders, and she was all the wiser for it. However, this cynicism had, thankfully, not been transferred to people as a whole. She was fascinated by people. All people, of every species and nationality. Although she'd always had the vague idea that Botanica did not share her enthusiasm for her fellow 'bot, this was the first time her superior had told her as much.  
  
Realising that Botanica had once more immersed herself in the chemical reaction central to their research, she gave another verbal nudge.  
  
"Do you still think they're that straightforward?"  
  
"I know for a fact that they are not." Realising that she had no chance of escaping the girl's questions, Botanica sat down with a sigh. "When I first arrived on the planet, I had been affected by Megatron's devolving virus. That entire group was viewed by my berserker self only as threats. By the time I initially returned to myself, I could see only basic personalities. I could cope with that. If they simply let me get on with what I had to do and stayed out of my way, all would be well." She looked out the window, speaking as if to herself. "But people interact. And when they interact...you can see that there is nearly always more than meets the eye."  
  
"Pun intended?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Anyway, I quickly learned that this was a group that knew each other inside out. Teamwork was flawless - one made a move and the others acted accordingly. They had full grip on their technorganic shells and they had pretty ingenious ways of utilizing them..."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Well, if your body was equipped with two swords, would it ever occur to you to use them like a glider?"  
  
"Er...no."  
  
"That's what Cheetor did. Anyway, on a professional level, any army would be proud to have them. On a personal level, however..." Botanica pondered the politest way to say it.  
  
Vortex wasn't too concerned with euphemisms. "They were pretty screwed up individuals?"  
  
"In a word? Yes." Botanica moved to adjust the heat setting on one of the burners. "War is, by its very nature, traumatic. There are two totally contradictory ways to make it through with your sanity more or less intact. One is to shut yourself off from others completely. The other is to band together so tightly it is almost impossible to identify yourself as individuals. Each method has its disadvantages."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
Botanica glanced around. "Computer 12T: Activate sound proof field."  
  
There was an immediate shift in the atmosphere of the room. The outside noise vanished and the air seemed to become slightly heavier, as the invisible "shield" was raised.  
  
Vortex panicked. "What was that?"  
  
"That was me ensuring that nothing I say can be used against my comrades," Botanica responded grimly. "This way, I can speak plainly without fear of spies."  
  
"Won't the Council know if you've guarded a room?"  
  
An expression crossed Botanica's face that in any less dignified robot would be called a smirk. "The Science Centre has always had a certain contempt for the Council, but that doesn't mean we don't realize that they are dangerous. Thus, we act up to them as eccentric, but useful individuals, and they leave us in peace. So much so, in fact, that they don't notice when we...neglect to mention...certain developments. Such as undetectable defence mechanisms."  
  
Vortex registered this, stored it away for further reference, and pursued her original query. "You were saying about getting out of a war without going mad."  
  
"Ah, yes. You see, if you block out all others, avoid interaction, speak only when spoken to...There is no way you can be hurt when someone is lost. And you will lose someone. Thus, you cannot go mad from grief, as my poor friend Corran did." She shook her head. "Two years before the grief even receded slightly, after her entire squad was wiped out. But do this, and you not only sacrifice teamwork, but the social interaction that may lighten the burden of war. And the war will never be over for you. Because even when it ends and you go home, you need to relearn all those social skills. People who isolate themselves like that jump from one war to another, because they simply cannot cope with civilian life. That's why so many sergeants at the academy are not exactly renowned for their people skills."  
  
"Makes sense, really," Vortex mused. "And the other?"  
  
"Banding together? You split the burden. You have someone else to rely on, people who will rescue you, support you, aid you...and mourn you. You'll feel the losses twice as much, but you'll keep going, for the whole is stronger than the parts. You might be able to laugh about things, share things, talk things over. The adjustment back to normality is never quite so drastic."  
  
"But..?"  
  
"When that structure is damaged, you may become totally disorientated. That is what happened to the Axalon crew."  
  
She was still doing it, she realized. The Axalon crew. The exploration group. Them. Not we, but they. And was it even her fault? she wondered. There was an enormous part of their lives that she had no business in. Was she alienated by default?  
  
"BOTANICA-AA! Cybertron to Botanica, do you read?"  
  
"Any other scientist would have struck you for insolence," Botanica grumbled.  
  
"You're not "any other scientist." So, what happened to mess them up so badly?"  
  
"What the Council hasn't told anyone is what happened. The original crew who returned to Cybertron was six. The number that escaped Megatron was four."  
  
"Good Primus. What happened to them?"  
  
"Captured. Had their sparks overwritten with the personalities of two of the Vehicon generals." She stretched - this was one long story. "That wasn't the worst thing though, their corruption...well, I suppose if you asked Silverbolt he'd disagree vehemently..."  
  
"Silverbolt? Why him?"  
  
"He was one of the two captured Maximals."  
  
"But he's still there..."  
  
"Only because his lover is a very, very determined woman. But that's incidental. The main thing in terms of the well-being of the crew was that, in such a small group, any loss was a significant one."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"An army company numbers seven hundred in a standard unit. If they go out on a mission and lose two, it is a highly successful mission. Collateral damage. Only those close to those particular people will be affected. However, when it's a small group, where everyone knows each other, and each has a different part to play..."  
  
"...no matter who it is, they'll feel the damage?"  
  
"Exactly. If you have thirty technicians on the team, you won't notice if one is lost - unless they are extremely good at their job. But if you have only one techician, you are at a severe disadvantage. The same applies to social roles."  
  
"...I lost you after "technician" "  
  
Botanica sighed - she'd hoped to keep this impersonal. "The two missing Maximals were Rhinox and Silverbolt. Rhinox was the anchor of the team," she explained, trying to recall Rattrap's description. "Optimus's best friend, and a good friend to Rattrap too. He was solid...When they lost Rhinox, the group became distinctly unstable. Optimus himself was usually a steady influence, but with the Oracle's tampering he was...not himself. So now there was no Rhinox to defuse arguments, act as mediator or argue things logically."  
  
"So fights broke out?"  
  
"Yes. The confidence of the rest of the team was damaged, even when they had no idea that they were missing someone. It is natural to seek a stabilising influence - subconsciously, they knew something was wrong."  
  
"And Silverbolt? He had a girlfriend, right?"  
  
"Blackarachnia." Botanica thought a moment. She'd had little to do with the younger woman, despite the fact that she was the only other female in the group. She even had a slight...contempt for the spider. Blackarachnia was a scientist too. She was supposed to be logical, methodical. Instead, she was mercurial, shifting from overly-affectionate to icy loner in the time it took to blink. Such antics, as far as Botanica was concerned, gave scientists a bad name.  
  
...Or was she simply jealous?  
  
"From what I can discern - and bear in mind that not only do I seldom speak to Silverbolt and Blackarachnia, but that neither is, by their very nature, forthcoming about themselves - Blackarachnia was struck badly by her loss. So much so that getting Silverbolt back took precedent over everything else." And more fool her, Botanica thought. "Thus, she was even less reliable than she had been already."  
  
"Less reliable?"  
  
"She was reprogrammed into a Predacon in the Beast Wars. Her specialty was deceit."  
  
"...I get the feeling that you don't like this woman."  
  
"Not particularly...Argh!" Botanica made a dive to rescue the sealed vial that had just been forced out of the burner - left unattended, the chemicals within reacted violently. She set it on the side to cool before proceeding any further, and continued.  
  
"I was never particularly at ease with people in general," she resumed. "When I come across someone who is generally solitary, but capable of loyalty that borders on obsession..." she shrugged. "What am I to make of it? Neither she nor Silverbolt make any sense to me. Thus, I tend to avoid them." She returned to her original point. "Whether I personally like them or nor is irrelevant. The main issue was that Silverbolt was probably one of the more social members of the Beast Wars. He knew everyone, had a connection of some description to most people. I know Rattrap thinks of him as his closest friend, even now. He was obedient, willing to do groundwork, and he was the only one who retained enough of a connection to Blackarachnia to ensure that she was an asset to the team. Lose him," she swept her arm in a semi-circle "and there is a domino effect. A confidante is lost. None of the more rudimentary work is done so willingly. Blackarachnia becomes less co-operative."  
  
"But they got him back, didn't they?"  
  
"Yes, but by that point he was almost a different person. From being gentle, merciful, obedient...loving, he becomes cold, insensitive, distant. A wild card. His relationship with Blackarachnia is equally bizarre - she's the one who keeps him in check, yet she is also the one he strikes out at most."  
  
"You always hurt the one you love." Vortex was jotting down observations on the experiments as she listened - like so many young Cybertronians, multi- tasking was second nature. "Sounds a bit like a role reversal to me."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Well, if it's gone from him taking care of her, to her looking after him," Vortex shrugged. "Comes full circle." She gave her companion a sidelong look. "But where do you figure in all of this?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"You talk about them like they were one of these," Vortex tapped a bubbling test tube. "Like you're just sitting, watching them, and it doesn't really have anything to do with you. I mean, you went through a lot with them, right?"  
  
Botanica hesitated a moment. "Yes...but I came into the war late. I had little time to understand the mechanics of the group..."  
  
"You described them pretty well just there."  
  
"Vortex, it's one thing to see how things work, and quite another to know how to deal with them." The older woman sighed. "I honestly can't say that I'm any more social than Silverbolt. I can tell you I liked Optimus Primal - he was a good leader and a good person. And I..." she wondered how much was wise to say. "I must admit I have a fondness for Rattrap - his sense of humour makes life interesting." Well, she wasn't about to admit her confused feelings for the small squeaky one to a junior, no matter how astute that junior might be. "Other than that, I can't say I've interacted much with any of them."  
  
"Oh, come on, Botanica! You went through a WAR with them, surely you must have some sense of kinship."  
  
Botanica mulled over this for a moment. Yes, she had seen and done a lot, hadn't she? She had crashed on to the planet, temporarily lost her mind and automatically attacked, took out an entire armada of tank drones by herself, been paired with Rattrap to search for the missing Transformer sparks and saved both of their shells when he was on a virtual holiday, been attacked by a demonic spark, been involved in the final battle and ultimately died - however temporarily - in a quest to free Cybertron. Just like all the others.  
  
But she wasn't like the others.  
  
"I think, Vortex, that I will always consider myself a scientist first and foremost, and the captain of exploration ship Stellar. I am not a warrior. I am not part of the Axalon crew."  
  
"But neither's...oh, whatshisname, the kid, dead skinny, weird hairdo."  
  
"Nightscream?" Vortex had a point, she had to admit...but "The glaring difference between Nightscream and myself is that Nightscream is young. The youthful are always more adaptable than those more set in their ways."  
  
"You sound as if they're shipping you off to the recycling plant tomorrow," Vortex grumbled.  
  
Botanica suppressed a laugh. "As may be, but Nightscream is still school- age. Up until now, he has had no affiliation, no specific function, no...no label."  
  
"So let me get this straight - as far as you're concerned, you're not one of this group of heroes because according to other people you're just Botanica, a scientist?"  
  
"Not entirely. Labels are nasty things, Vortex. They brand people. They set out standards and boundaries and expect people to operate within them, judging them accordingly..."  
  
"Kinda like the fact that when I got er...over-energised and kissed Bladeswipe at the party it was front page news, but nobody blinked when Layway disappeared with three girls and..."  
  
"Too much information, Vortex!"  
  
"Let's just say that Layway was aptly named."  
  
Why adolescent Maximals felt the need to broadcast their love lives across the planet, Botanica would never know. "Quite. But returning to the point at hand...Labels are generally detrimental - but Vortex, why do you think the Council only questioned you once? Why do they not track me at every turn, the way they do the others? Cheetor went to the Citadel the other day, only to realise that he was being followed by no less than seven Council spies. Why does that not happen to me?"  
  
"...Because they see you a scientist, not a threat?"  
  
"Exactly." Botanica swept her hand around the room. "There are ways and means to manipulate labels - how do you think we were able to keep such huge developments as this shield secret?"  
  
"Point taken...and, er, Botanica? Is that flame supposed to turn pink?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
Vortex didn't have time to answer before an appalling smell filled the room.  
  
____________________________________________________________  
  
"Well, well, Botanica, and you've always said that my experiments were unpredictable," Kismet remarked cheerily, spraying the room with air freshener - the Cybertronian sense of smell was every bit as strong as a humans (not that that was saying much). "Quite a little cocktail there - you did know that aradnium has similiar properties to sulphur, didn't you..?"  
  
"Well, I certainly do now," Botanica sputtered. "Good Primus, Kismet, what a stench!"  
  
"Oh, I don't know...There's been worse. And no lasting damage was done," the ever-optimistic scientist replied. "I mean, it's not like all the steel in the work surfaces disintergrated..."  
  
"The way they did in your lab when you left that little "concoction" unattended?" Botanica retorted mildly. "The one that burned through four shelves and a bunsen?"  
  
"Oh, you still go on about that," Kismet laughed. "Honestly, Botanica, as long as no-one's hurt, what does it matter?"  
  
"I agree with you, Kismet, but I'm not entirely sure our budget does."  
  
"Budget, schmudget. How do you expect to get anywhere in life without taking a few risks?" He glanced up at the clock. "By the Matrix, is that the time? I should have signed off an hour ago." He looked sternly at Botanica. "And you should think about leaving too...Can't keep the new beau waiting."  
  
"Yes, quite, I...WHAT DID YOU SAY?!!" she squawked indignantly, as his words registered.  
  
"You heard me. I have to say, Botanica, I never thought you'd go for the short and annoying type..."  
  
"How did you..?"  
  
"Oh, I have my sources...Good night, must dash - have to pick up Tenaria, going out to dinner tonight..."  
  
He was out the door, laughing his head off all the way, before Botanica could muster a response.  
  
_____________________________________________________  
  
"Well, I guess that's us for the day," Vortex surmised, looking critically at the now-clean room. "Unless you wanted to start anything else..?" she finished, looking dolefully up at her superior.  
  
"Oh, come, Vortex, am I that much of a slave driver? No, we finish for today. I think my nervous system has been rattled enough."  
  
"All right," the young scientist chirped, switching to the horse beast mode (how she got it was still a mystery, but she wasn't complaining) and nudging the door open. "What time do we start tomorrow?"  
  
She tilted her head at Botanica, who seemed to be lost in thought. "Boss?"  
  
The plant transformer suddenly jerked out of her daze. She thought for a moment. "Actually, Vortex, it might be an idea to take a brief holiday tomorrow. What little official work we had is complete, and there are no deadlines to be met...Besides, our little talk has enlightened me. I have...business to attend to."  
  
Vortex blinked. "Great, but...I've not upset you or anything, have I?"  
  
Botanica smiled. "Dear child, not in the least. Quite the opposite in fact." She gazed into the distance. 'There are serious matters that must be attended to, true...but there are happier duties that I have been neglecting also." She moved off to walk the short distance back to the Maximals' orchard and their quarters, careful to activate the anti-tracking device as she did so (one more little gadget kept from the government). "Good night, Vortex."  
  
" Night, Botanica. Have fun," the girl added with a cheeky grin.  
  
In spite of herself, the older scientist chuckled, before setting off to her home...and her friends...and Rattrap.  
  
After all, as Kismet said, what was life without a few risks? 


End file.
